


Purgatory

by keepworking



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3138686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepworking/pseuds/keepworking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She will leave as they began<br/>Post 6x11</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purgatory

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews greatly appreciated

He is free, but she is trapped. His whispered _“thank you Kalinda”_ feels like a rope loose around her neck, the click of the revolver before the bullet meets it’s target. They hug and in this courtroom full of people, she has never felt more alone.

It isn’t his fault. He didn’t ask for this. He doesn’t know, just like he has never known who she really is. A few quick fucks in hotel rooms, empty apartments and suddenly it becomes they and we. She remembers last time, the last time she tried this.  
She remembers how normality ended, the running, the favours, the _dependence_

It isn’t his fault but that doesn’t stop the visits to his apartment becoming shorter and sporadic, culminating in snatched hands and phone calls interrupting.  
 _“What happened to us”_ he asks, voice begging, eyes pleading with that puppy dog gaze  
His shirt, half undone, still hangs loose on his frame, exposing the trace of his ribs and chestbone glinting in the early morning light.  
Her phone buzzes.  
She buttons up his shirt

Cary didn’t ask for this. He didn’t even need her to do it and that hurts the most. Kalinda doesn’t make mistakes, doesn’t fuck up (anymore.) It’s not like the other times and she tells herself this doesn’t mean anything. Her husband had associates, dealt drugs, returned home with blood stained clothes except Nick isn’t here anymore and Bishop’s noose is tightening around her neck.

Weeks pass, then months and now the little tasks are getting harder, the smile slipping. Cary’s face becomes gaunter, his body tense. He’s trying, she knows, but the resentment simmers in her chest and she thrusts him away. Gives what he used to want, enough to keep him from breaking and enough to keep her in the present, but nothing more.  
 _“Let me in,K”_ he moans, as they fumble against his desk. _You’re in now,_ she breathes. She will not look above his chest, she will not. This is kinder, she knows, in the long term. Soon, he will depend on her only for one thing and when she falls away he can get it from someone else. 

The rope hitches up, dangling her boot-claden feet just above ground-level, the heavy leather weighing her down.

 _I have to go_ she says and Alicia glances over, confused. The bartender brings more shots _you’ve only just got here stay for another_  
She downs it in one, amber liquid turning red under the harsh lights. Trickling slowly down her throat like petrol. Breathing is effort but she tries because Alicia bought it and in a minute this will be over.  
She will leave as they began 

“I’ll see you around Alicia."


End file.
